


Alliances To Be Made

by TheCookieOfDoom



Series: Prompt Fills [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: The loyalty of the Bolton’s was not something Ned Stark had faith in. Yes, they were his bannermen. But the flayed men of Bolton were treacherous, their lord making alliances he shouldn’t be making when it suited his purposes, and stabbing others in the back when it pleased him. The Starks needed to secure the loyalties of the Boltons, and there was only one way to ensure it; marriage.---Wow guys! I wasn't expecting to get so many prompts lol. I'm at 31 so far! I'll continue to accept them until May 30th, then I'm going work on completing my current wips and filling as many prompts as I can for the 2-3 weeks until summer semester starts.





	Alliances To Be Made

**Author's Note:**

> For this lovlie prompt: The bastard of bolton meets the bastard of winterfell, perhaps arranged marriage au
> 
> I hope you like it!

The loyalty of the Bolton’s was not something Ned Stark had faith in. Yes, they were his bannermen. But the flayed men of Bolton were treacherous, their lord making alliances he shouldn’t be making when it suited his purposes, and stabbing others in the back when it pleased him. The Starks needed to secure the loyalties of the Boltons, and there was only one way to ensure it; marriage. Neither of them could give up their eldest sons, however, needing them to take over their respective castles and produce heirs. 

Roose Bolton offered up his bastard, Ramsay. It was a slight, an insult, but Ramsay was the only other surviving child he had. Roose had suggested, though indirectly, that Sansa be married to Ramsay. Ned had refused outright, not willing to give up his precious daughter to Ramsay. He had heard the stories of that terror, the things he did to the women he bedded, and the even worse things he did when he was done with them. No, Ned Stark would not give his beloved jewel of the North to that beast. 

It was Lady Catelyn, unsurprisingly, who offered up the solution. The elder Bolton boy was promised to another already, and therefore was not eligible. While it was rumored that Sansa was to be wed to the prince, when the time was right. And Arya was much too young, and wilful, to be sold off, even if Ramsay had been of a stature worthy of her noble daughters. 

No, if Roose offered up the bastard of Bolton, then she would act in kind, offering up the bastard of Winterfell. Jon protested, of course, arguing that she had no right to barter him off for an alliance as if he were a cow or goat. And even still, he belonged to the Night’s Watch. He was to leave for the Wall in only a few short months. Catelyn was relentless, however, refusing to budge, gaining a sick pleasure from forcing this upon him. Ned was more reluctant, but ultimately sided with his wife that this was the best solution. Within a fortnight, they were to be wed in the godswood, and Jon found his heart breaking as he spoke the words of a vow before the heartwood that he’s never thought to say, rather than the words he’d memorized so long ago. 

Jon had never met Ramsay Snow before. Hadn’t heard any of the stories, either. But how could anything but a monster come from a house whose banner was a flayed man. He had been pleasantly surprised when Ramsay seemed courteous. Shy, even, sweet. They were both thrown into a situation neither of them had expected, not wanted. Theirs was a cruel fate. 

On the journey back to the Dreadfort--it was decided that the newlyweds would spend half the year in the Dreadfort, and half in Winterfell--they grew to know each other. Ramsay was bashful in admitting that his heart belonged to another already. The hound master's daughter, who he had intended to marry, before all of this. Jon was saddened for the other, that he would not be free to follow the desires of his heart. Had perhaps been indelicate, but sincere, in stating that Ramsay could still be with her, even if he was married to Jon. If kings could do it, why not him? He had smiled when Ramsay looked at him, asking if that made Jon his queen. 

Ramsay had expressed his own regrets when Jon told him of his dreams of joining the Night’s Watch with his uncle, defending the seven kingdoms from the brutish wildlings. But Ramsay had also said that he was glad Jon was here instead of there. Someone so beautiful shouldn’t be sequestered away at the Wall, hidden forever until he died to early. 

It seemed that they would make a great pair, two bastards who seemed to be meant for each other, so completely compatible that Jon couldn’t help thinking they could fall in love. They could make their own story, one that had a happy ending, like the ones Sansa loved to read and listen to. There would be no children, of course. Not for Jon, at least, but Ramsay did have his Myranda. 

When they got to the Dreadfort, Ramsay happily showed Jon around. Taking him through all the secret passageways, showing him the best parts of the forest for hunting. Ramsay had finished off the day with taking Jon to the secret hot springs that no one else knew about, as far as Ramsay knew. It was far from the Dreadfort, but well worth the journey as they both got in, the hot water melting away the aches and pains of a long day’s ride. Ramsay had finally kissed him, then, the first kiss Jon had ever been given. He’d thought it was precious how Jon was as pure as the freshly fallen snow he was named for, having never been with another in any way. 

Hands wandered, and Jon let Ramsay do as he pleased, and by the time they returned to the Dreadfort for the night, exhausted but sated and full of warmth, Jon was sure that he could grow to love this man. 

But then the time came when they were expected to consummate their marriage. They had been putting it off for no other reason than to get to know each other a bit better, having not even heard of each other before the marriage was arranged, and because by the time night rolled around, they were too tired to think of sex. They spent their days riding, Ramsay showing Jon everything he could, sometimes taking him back to the hot spring where they would kiss and touch and explore each other’s bodies, but never fuck. Ramsay was far from a virgin, but Jon was still skittish, like a colt. So Ramsay was easing him up to it, trying to make him feel more comfortable. But they were allowed to wait no longer. 

Jon didn’t see a point; it wasn’t as if either of them could conceive from their coupling. But they did as they were told, determining that Jon would be the one bottoming because, as Ramsay put it, he was ‘as pretty as a maid’.

When Ramsay took him, Jon’s screams echoed through the halls of the Dreadfort, and he wondered how he could have ever been so fooled into thinking Ramsay kind. 


End file.
